It unfolds like a Joseph Conrad novel, the sea journey taking enormous significance as it goes along, shifting what begins as a tremendous, overpowering physical experience into a journey of acceptance and absolution. The vast calmness of the Argentinian jungle echoing with Vargas' inner peace shows us the true nature of Alonso's film: A tale of essential synchronicity between past and present, man and nature.
Una narración contemplativa, sobria y depurada, donde cada sonido, textura, desplazamiento de cámara y los movimientos o acciones del personaje de Vargas envuelven hasta quedar atrapados en un recorrido donde lo que sobran son sensaciones.
Under the huge umbrella term of "Contemplative Cinema", there are many films in which one can quietly wonder whether or not the director knows what he's doing; one questions if he's just your typical hack, shrouding his films with Dumont-like ambiguety and lots of long shots in a meager attempt to get critical recognition. Lisandro Alonso is not among them. 4/5.
It's power relies on an imbricated construction of the main character's life story. Through its long shots, past, present and future cohabit the same spacetime continuum. However, as some other contemporary avant-garde productions, it's a movie marked by a blasé approach to life in which the spectator is not invited to join in.
Total film experience which transcends anything that Bruno Dumont could stand for, led by a Pasolini character and painted with such Weerasethakul-like vibrant poetry. Truly one of the very best first viewings I've ever witnessed, if solely for the final eight minutes, including the credits. As that was labeled minimalism, so JAUJA achieved the whole cosmos. With filmography like this, we simply are doomed to follow.
Whether it is minimalism or rather the nihilism, what I loved about this the most is how Alonso managed to capture both the simplicity and beauty of the character's world with the most mutilating claws.